Chromatic Aberration
by Jennifer Wilson
Summary: Def: the effect produced by the refraction of different wavelengths of light through slightly different angles, resulting in a failure to focus. Henry comes back. It's not a good thing.
1. Chapter 1

_"Look you can't do this, Henry! We're just making it big, and you go off and join the war?" Joey was furious. Despite his leg, he was standing at full height. Henry could not help but back away, but verbally, he held firm._

 _"I got drafted, Joey. I can't pay the fine, not with what I've sunk into your animation studio."_

 _"Henry, if you walk out of that door, you'll never be able to come back to the animation studio!" A pause, before Henry turned on his heel, giving Joey a thousand mile stare._

 _"Then so be it, Joey. I quit!" The door slammed down on more than ten years of friendship. Perhaps for the rest of their lifetimes, but Henry was done. He had lost weight, often sleeplessly making his way back to the studio to meet deadlines, and he could no longer take the harsh working conditions of the field. Maybe quitting like that was better than staying on and feeling their friendship withering away._

 _There would always be time to mend the fences._

"I said all of that. And yet, I'm here." Henry sighed, as he stared at the letter, and then towards the studio.

Even now, he could feel the intent radiating from the letter; it was as though Joey had put all of his desperation into it, judging by how he had flourished his pen as he signed his name.

The Bendy cartoons had fallen out of favour, both due to the stringent Hays Code and afterwards with the domination of colour. The final straw that broke the camel's back was Hanna-Barbera and their terrible limited animation techniques. And Joey Drew Studios fell, like many other independent animation studios after their heyday. Now the big guys were outsourcing to Taiwan and Japan, for sweatshop labour.

Henry hadn't done any proper animation work, tied up in illustration projects and live-action posters and thus had little passion for what creative output he had done post-war. He regretted that. It was hard not to like the little devil darling, especially since he often took his sons and wife to look at the pictures. But the time of shorts were done, and many of his co-workers had left the field as American animation quality dropped along with rising pay elsewhere.

In fact, that was why he was here. One lone man, dropped off by his son, out to look for Joey Drew at his own bankrupt studio. His old workplace, and what a fine sight it was to see the dilapidated place that was once his second home. Henry was disappointed. How had it come to this? Joey hadn't changed with the times, said one former colleague. Still insisted on slapstick humour, out of touch with the changing trends, and reluctant to leave the rubber-hose style behind despite animation shorts going out of style.

That was besides the point. He had received a strange letter from Joey, and the sheer feeling of fear and hopelessness had made his skin crawl when he had first received. Being an empathetic sort of guy, Henry had been deeply disturbed at the register used. 'Best pal'? They had broken off their relationship more than thirty years ago! Henry was only coming back after a letter from the lawyer handling the assets of Joey Drew Studios had requested if he wanted the rights to Bendy. Henry was still surprised he owned it of course, but that meant that Joey hadn't taken his name of it despite earlier threats.

No point going on it further. Best to step inside, and ask where Joey was, to leave him the rights to Bendy. Which could only mean Joey was dead, but Henry had tried searching for his name in the obituaries. Then, a few of the old-timers were reported to have never returned from the studios a few weeks back. Hence, here he was, staring at the studio, refusing to step in.

His wife was curious, but she set her concerns aside and had supported his decision fully. Poor May, who had stuck with him throughout the war and raised their two sons dutifully. But here he was, still hesitant to walk in. Was it the stifling atmosphere that he remembered from his last years, just as Disney was pushing through his Silly Symphonies? Or was it old memories haunting him?

He took in a deep breath, before closing his eyes. Henry opened the door of that old place he called home, and strode in like he deserved to be here. Back in Joey Drew Studios.

* * *

"That was odd, that they'll keep my old place here." Henry's work table was left untouched. Unlike the other animators, he had been tucked away in a _cul de sac_ before they managed to rent the whole building and eventually buy out the other tenants. Henry stood in his old quarters, feeling a bit silly. Character model sheets still hung on an adjacent wall, while yellow, crinkling paper was half-stuffed into a drawer. Even his old doodles were still there, frozen in the span of time that he had left. Joey Drew Studios had obviously grown, but his table remained as a memorial and a warning to other animators.

Henry chuckled upon the printed ' **NO** ' placed over his silly scribble of Bendy. At that time, he had left the studio without a hint of his resignation. He forgot to pack up, that was foolish of him-

Oh crap. Henry slapped his face. He had forgotten to retrieve his items. He had broken the cardinal sin of any resignation, that was a gag worth laughing over if it did not happen to him. Well, not as if anything could be done. All of stationery would have been repurposed by the studio to cut costs. Too late to retrieve anything of value now.

Still, he hoped that they hadn't used his old pens and papers for anything else other than drawing cartoons. The more absent-minded ones had been laughed at for snatching an ink well rather than drinking their cup of black coffee. In fact Joey and Henry joked that the blacker the coffee they drank, the blacker their soul-

* * *

"Oh my god", Henry exclaimed once he caught sight of the corpse on the stand. "Joey, what were you doing?" Henry felt disgusted. They had been rebuked over and over for incorporating 'Satanic Rituals' and racism into their cartoons when their intention was completely the opposite. And now, dissection! Of Boris the Wolf! A goddamn real-life cartoon! Henry would never have expected it of Joey, but evidently he didn't know his old friend very well at all.

And talking about moving cartoons, there were Bendy cutouts _everywhere_. Henry could have sworn some of them move, and one had even peered round the corner at him! Henry would have immediately left if he hadn't sensed the letter growing warm. Upon examining it, the words on the letter changed, instructing him to turn on the ink machine. It was when Henry felt an overpowering command to follow the instruction on the letter did he realise that something was amiss.

Henry felt his nerves tingle with anticipation. It was as though he was on a battlefield, armed with a letter and his wits against an insurmountable enemy. It was far from the ordinary day, that was sure. And Henry hadn't been looking forward to retirement and the slow hum-drum of life. Not to mention his natural inhibition to sloth that made his curiosity grow more and more as he found Wally Franks' recording.

 _This is interesting_ , Henry thought, as he gathered the items. He recognised his inkwell, and retrieved it next to Boris' corpse. The other pictures were more puzzling, and it took him some wild guesses as there were only a certain number of items that he could pick up. Again, suspicious. But the letter told him to start the machine, and Wally's recordings told him what items were needed for the pedestals. Once he had accumulated the items, he had flicked on the pressure switch in the projector room (scared out of his skin when the projector started running a short of Bendy dancing on the screen) before flicking on the power switch.

That was when the light started flickering, and the Ink Machine Room started flooding with ink. Followed by some humanoid abomination that appeared to be Bendy. Okay, Henry thought to himself, screw this. He was getting the heck outta here-

Missing step.

 _"Holy pitfall~!_ " Henry couldn't help but echo one of the blasted cartoons that his sons enjoyed when they were younger as he careened down at least two floors and hit the wooden floor with an audible thump. Still, he found himself relatively uninjured, and decided to take a flight of stairs back up, and hopefully avoiding more crazy holes in the floor. It was only abandoned for a few weeks, the wood couldn't have rotten to the point that it broke easily. Must have been lack of maintenance, Henry thought to himself as he went down two flights of stairs, only to stumble into a nightmare.

"Pentagram?" He thought wildly to himself. "Coffins?" He mouthed an apology even as he picked up a nearby axe. There was definitely crazy shit, as his son would put it. But this, this was nonsense. Well then, he just had to press ahead, even as unease started picking up the clues and assembling them to an unsettling picture. Henry dearly wished he had taken a look at Joey's autobiography, 'The Illusion of Living'. That would have offered a better explanation to his whereabouts than simply investigating the studio, which he was whole-heartedly regretting at this instance.

Henry, with some reticence, tapped the coffins. Empty, he wondered. What could they have been containing? He sighed as he lifted his axe. His arm was going to be so sore after this.

"Finally!" Henry could not help but cheer. Sammy's spite had led to the Music Department being a nightmare to navigate, besides the ink creatures that Henry had tentatively named 'Searchers' and the mysterious increase in the number of Bendy cutouts that Henry had tripped on. Henry had quickly found the strange message that Sammy had left, opened the secondary section, and found the stairwell. Which was promptly filled with ink.

The letter that Joey had sent had warmed, creating new objectives for Henry to complete. In fact, he was definitely sure that Joey had dabbled in something that the polio sufferer should never have gotten his hands on in the first place, but what could he do? He was going to have a few words with Joey once they met, if they did. It may involve 'Work-Place Safety' and 'Union Rules' and a good punch in the side.

As he headed to the stairwell, mind ringing with complaints and swears as his body felt adrenaline filling his veins, he could sense the back of his neck shiver. Being a good war veteran, he dodged, and gave a good kick backwards. His ears heard a satisfying 'Ow' as he turned on his heel, ready to give a swing of his axe.

Henry tilted his head. Blinked. Okaay~.The human covered entirely in ink was huddling in a corner, clutching his leg and whimpering. That person was also wearing a Bendy Mask, albeit one that was torn up and flimsy to begin with. Was that a pair of suspenders? Was it actually slipping off the figure's shoulders? In fact, where was his feet?

"Who the hell are you?" He asked, making sure to inject a tinge of dismay and humour in his tone as he edged away from the figure, hoping to be able to run away and shut the door behind him. But it seemed as though the person had thought differently, and opened his mouth to reveal cigarette-stained teeth and sharpened canines-

 _ **"Sleep, rest your head, sheep."**_ The growl was familiar to say the least. Granted, it felt more slimy and yet hoarser than what he remembered, but it was probably Henry's former work colleague.

"Sammy? Sammy Lawrence? Is that you?" Henry questioned. Sammy Lawrence was a very difficult person to get along with, with his low tolerance for bullshit and incompetence earning him few friends in the studio, and no one back then was going to tell the high-strung music director that it was precisely because of his personality that no orchestra would hire him. Of course, his work was better than the usual lot, and he worked harder than anyone else in his department, which was why he was kept on when the Depression hit them with the force of a hurricane.

Sammy's earlier recording and the words 'He will Set Us Free' crept into Henry's mind as he edged away from the ranting fanatic. Henry knew that it had been thirty years, but it was as though Sammy had changed into a completely different person. Sammy was by no means plump, especially living day to day like the three of them had been when they had first started out, but his waist was half of what the trousers he was wearing fitted, and there were way too many ribs to be anatomically correct. Did he have seven pectorals? Henry's mind wandered, cataloging the sight for sore eyes both literally and metaphorically.

 _ **"...He appears from the shadows to rain his sweet blessings upon me. The figure of ink that shines in the darkness. I see you, my savior. I pray you hear me."** _ Sammy was regurgitating that spiel he had recorded even as he raised his arms, but his actions were telegraphed. Too obvious, Henry thought, as he swatted away Sammy's arms and gave him a vicious punch to the chin. The man reeled from the blow, cut off mid-rant as Henry followed up with a side blow, snapping the string that tied Bendy's face to the man.

"Don't. Do that!" Henry grouched, feeling particularly like the typical curmudgeon that most old men were recognised to be as he slammed his knees onto Sammy's legs, causing them to collapse onto the floor, Henry sitting uncomfortably on Sammy's legs as he tried to pick up some sign of recognition.

Huh. Henry adjusted his glasses. Must be his eyesight going. He stared further, before leaping off Sammy with a strangled howl. Sammy's eyes were bloodshot, but what was more important was the lack of a face. No nose, no ears, not even any cheeks to define facial structure! All that Henry saw was one great giant blot of ink that made Sammy's previously well-defined face shapeless, even half-melted.

" ** _Hear me, Bendy! Arise from the darkness! Arise and claim my offering! Free me! I beg you! I summon you, ink demon!_** " Henry hissed, feeling his eyebrow twitch more and more frequently. The strange texture of that ink, gooey and slimy and far too much for Henry's fastidious nature to tolerate for long. Finally, he had enough.

"Okay, that is it. Let's clean your face of that blasted ink." Sammy let out a screech as Henry searched his pockets and found a clean handkerchief. Sammy had not shifted, and thus Henry was more comfortably seated as he rubbed away at the ink, hoping to make out Sammy's facial features. But all the cloth did was to become more and more ink-stained, and Henry threw it away, frustrated with his lack of progress.

"Stay here, I'll get more cloth." To tie you up, Henry finished in his mind as he kept his back away from Sammy, unwilling to chance a possible blow from behind. He knew he saw the infirmary a way off, it was time to get some bandages from there that were hopefully good enough despite the visible wear and tear on the place. Now, where was it-

"HOLY SHIT!"

Between him and the infirmary stood the same eldritch creature that had greeted him from the Ink Machine Room on the first floor. How the hell had it gotten here? Did Sammy somehow summon the devil from where he was? God damn and blast, Henry was sick and tired of this creature. Now he had to find a way around the creature. Wait a minute, was that creature moving?

 _" #$%%$%^ &(*!"_ That was all that echoed in Henry's mind as he tipped around a corner, leading the monster on a merry chase, which would hopefully end with a door and locks between them and safety on the other side. He made the mistake of turning behind, and saw the creature sliding around corners, waving its arms wildly about as it continued to growl with rage. Henry tipped his way into a shaft and slammed the door on the creature, locking it.

"Okay, I did not sign up for this crap." Henry muttered to himself as he scratched his head. "Sammy, if you can hear me, I blame you for setting him on me. Good grief, you give this old man more grey hairs than he needs." He strode his way through a series of rooms. Hmm, he hadn't been this way before...These new extensions were giving him so much trouble. Ah ha, the elevator shaft. Good. Time to leave this hellhole once and for all, and come back with reinforcement.

The can sent his heart into a flutter as it rolled towards him. "Hello? I know you're there." He bravely cried out as he stepped away from the can, mindful of what could creep up next. Did that abomination make its way into the room despite the door? Or was it more Searchers out for a haunt? His blackened heart could not handle further stress.

Oh, it was Boris. Hey, wait-

"Boris?" Henry was pretty sure that he saw Boris' corpse being cut up earlier on, when he was still investigating and not trying to escape the studio. So what was he doing here?

* * *

"Ah, seriously? You've got ink smears on your face." Sammy huffed as Henry whipped out yet another of his handkerchiefs in an attempt to make him look presentable.

"Gerroff!" Henry snickered as Sammy uselessly batted his hands at him. He didn't need Henry to wipe the ink away, he could do it himself!

"Too late~!" Henry sang as he dodged Sammy's flailing and whisked away to his desk, whistling as he wiped his ink-stained hands using the same handkerchief that he had used on Sammy. Sammy scowled, before looking into a nearby reflective surface. Henry was being as much as a busybody as usual, and Sammy couldn't help but feel the blackened cockles of his heart warm at the thought. Stupid man, he could take care to neaten up his own appearance!

"Sammy?" Joey's voice rang out, and Sammy rolled his eyes. Yet another typical day. Hopefully Joey wouldn't set yet another impossible timing for him again, he was still rearranging some of the orchestra's scores.

The figure that once answered to Sammy picked up the abandoned handkerchief. He could vaguely make out the homely, earthen smell of grass and hot...probably pie, he thought, mouth attempting to water in vain as whatever saliva in his mouth dissolved into the ink that coated his insides. He remembered someone wiping away at his face like the sheep had done, in the same motherhen-like manner. He had to ask Alice; the angel would know what to do with it.

 **Do you think she'll bother? Help our Savior to capture that precious sheep. It has been hard to come by -** no, he thought, he needed to have him alive. Who was he? He was pretty sure he knew that face from somewhere...

* * *

Alice peered at him as she closed the book with a loud clap, when Sammy knocked loudly and clumsily at the alcove she called home. Well, as much as anywhere safe could be away from the monster, but Alice counted her blessings one at a time.

"What do you have there?" Sammy presented her with the cloth, and she could not help but drop her book. Something new! Sammy refused to let go of it, so Alice tiptoed to examine the thing. It was painstakingly embroidered for someone with the initials H. R, with a beautiful blue border around the corners. An exquisite piece of work, to Alice's untrained eyes.

"He's. an intruder." Sammy bit out, breathing heavily. He bent his head low, ink dripping down to the already stained floor as he leaned in for comfort. Alice didn't disappoint by pressing it into her shoulder, and stroking his head. Strange, where was the mask that he wore? Had he thrown it away? Sammy moaned with her touch, raising both hands to cover his ears. Oh, _that._

 _"Kill him?"_ Alice's brow furrowed. Sammy had an external voice who he called the Prophet. It had formed sometime between turning into this cartoon form and Sammy starting to lay down bacon soup cans as 'sacrifices'. Alice had to figure out what to do as the cantankerous music director withdrew from conversation in order to listen to what the Prophet said, and acted as the restraining bolts on him when they were near.

Of course, that also meant close skin contact with Sammy whenever he got into these moods. Alice had been wary at first, but as time passed, she reasoned that no one was able to help them. Like many other occasions, she asked politely if she could touch Sammy. Once Sammy had affirmed, she gently pressed her palms over his, covering his ears thoroughly.

"Better?" Alice queried once Sammy seemed to have recovered. He nodded as he sat up, but unlike his usual behaviour, he grasped her hands, swinging them from side to side.

"I know who he is!" Sammy gurgled, lost in some deep emotion that Alice needed some time to fathom. Why had Sammy suddenly changed moods?

 _"_ Who?" Alice, no, _Susie_ asked.


	2. Chapter 2

"You...look familiar. Sound familiar. Have we met?"

"...I used to work here." Henry groaned. "But I don't think you actually saw me, I got drafted and did not rejoin it after the war." Then again, he hadn't met Boris. How would Boris remember him in the first place?

"Hmm." Boris hummed non-commitedly. "Are you going to be staying here then? I can play some music!" He yapped happily, circling him before miming playing an instrument-a clarinet? Possible, based on the later cartoons that his sons had watched. Henry wouldn't know, after all, he had only written for Bendy exclusively while the other characters were bit actors to begin with.

"I...don't think so? I was planning on meeting an old friend here-"

"Old friend! I can introduce you to one of my friends here! His name is Bendy, I'm sure you'll like him~!" Boris exclaimed, tugging on his arm. "He's nice! He always teaches me new tricks!" Henry thought back to the terrible and eye-watering horror that had been chasing him in the Music Department and shivered. Yeah, no thanks Boris, he would be very happy if he never saw this studio again, let alone _Bendy._

Now that he came to think of it, that Bendy's feet...It looked familiar. As though someone he remembered walked like that...Who could it be? The left foot was almost inward-facing, and the creature quite possibly could not see him. Which was reassuring, Henry did not want to be caught by whoever it was under that ink. He would very much like to go back home and set a cup of cocoa for himself, warming himself in front of a roaring hearth and surrounded by his family.

However, his mind went back to Sammy. Sammy was not reported to have gone missing, but that could be just his anti-social tendencies wreaking havoc once again. With the way he distanced himself from non-work relations, it would not be too impossible to have no one discover his disappearance after a few weeks. It was more distressing, that he had yet to find some of those other workers at Joey Drew Studios whom had been reported missing by family and friends. Where were they? There had to be _some_ that were working in the animation department, but he had found none there. Who else had been left here and gone unnoticed other than Sammy?

Henry's mind wandered over to the empty coffins that he had spotted upon his unexpected fall through the floor. What could they have been storing? Could it be the dead corpses of the missing employees? That was...if Joey had gone so far as to murder his own employees, then would he have stopped there? Who acted as Joey's handler once Henry had left? Sammy couldn't do it, they could be found tugging at each other's suspenders in a full-blown argument long before Henry left. Norman Polk, the band conductor? Susie the voice actress?

Besides, where was Boris taking him anyway? Henry could not recognise the place; he had never been to this part of the building before. Hopefully it was to safety; Boris seemed like a nice guy for a wolf.

"Boris, I need to get back to the exit."

"Nu-uh! Bendy said that all new visitors have to see him first!" Oh holy crap, it was just as Henry had feared. He struggled against Boris' strong grasp, but failed miserably as the wolf overpowered him and heaved the old man onto his shoulder, with Henry kicking against him uselessly.

"Hey, let me down!"

"Nu-uh, Bendy says that visitors have to stay put! And this is a good way of making you stay put!" Boris replied good-naturedly. He probably didn't think there was anything wrong with those statements. But the fact remained that as of now, Henry was stuck wriggling against Boris. The wolf was dumb as a rock, Henry should have suspected that Boris would be working for Bendy after all. They were best friends, last time he watched his old work. Henry recalled the wolf being easily fooled into letting the sheep escape when Bendy had tricked him-

Ooh. Idea.

"Argh! Boris, put this old man down, my back is hurting." Henry pretended. Boris scratched his head, a comical reminder that Boris was just a cartoon and was prone to this gag. _Come on, Boris_ , Henry urged within the depths of his mind, _fall for it_. _Remember what comes next._

"Oh, okay." Boris murmured back, setting Henry down on his feet. "I forgot! Do all old man have back pain?"

"They sure do, Boris!" Henry rubbed his back, acting as if it truly affected him. "Oh hey look, it's Alice Angel!" He pointed down a corridor, squinting his eyes to give the impression of having actually saw anything more than a simple dark spot. Boris mimicked him, and making use of that opportunity, Henry turned on his heel and fled in precisely the opposite direction. The gullible wolf continued looking towards the feinted direction, before he realised what had happened.

"Hey, come back!" Boris' voice rang throughout the hallways, as Henry urged his legs to move faster and escape this place. The stairwell had to be here somehow, he was quite clear he passed by that ink-filled hallway a few moments ago...There was no way his memory was cheating on him...Henry could only look around, hoping to locate the exit by himself. Where was it, where was that blasted stairwell-

"Hey, any ideas?" The letter had been helpful in exploring the Music Department. Best to see what new objective the letter came up with, Henry decided as he whisked out the letter that Joey had seemingly sent him. Maybe an actual map to the place? Or at least some direction in which Henry could locate the nearest exit?

Oh yes, the letter had changed its wording. There were only two words: _RUN AWAY._

"...Really, thanks a lot Joey." Henry moaned in dismay as he tucked the letter away. That was singularly unhelpful. Well, back to the original topic of finding a way to get out of here-"Oof!"

Henry found himself ramming against something very solid, and again, slimy. Very reluctant to look up, about to curse his poor eyesight, he could only stutter prayers to Up There as his eyes met with the same figure of Bendy that had been chasing him earlier. Henry lamented his bad luck as he retreated, hoping to somehow wrangle an escape.

"Damn and blast it!" Henry rubbed at his eyes. The figure of Bendy was still there, the humanoid abomination that had one human hand and one fingered glove and its twisted foot. It growled at him, slapping one hand after another to where Henry had originally been.

" _ **Hhenryyyy..."**_ He could hear the beast groan, a grotesque mixture of anger and hatred and something else. Was that frustration? Yeah, Henry would have been irritated if he was in that beast's position, were he up against an opponent like Henry. Unfortunately, Henry was unwilling to let himself been caught, and he side-stepped the blow that the beast had sent with one swing of its arm.

 _"_ _ **Why did you leave?! Why didn't you come back!"**_ Henry whisked his head, desperately looked for a way out of his current predicament. Bendy blocked the passageway that connected Henry to the stairwell, and Henry really needed a tiny bit of time. Alright, time for a distraction!

"I don't know what you're talking about, Bendy!" Henry replied, mustering up all of his courage. "I need to get back, my wife and children are still at home-"

 ** _"We built this place together, Henry!"_** Was it just Henry, or did the beast just mention them building this place together? That didn't make sense, Henry was pretty sure he would have noticed Bendy if he were still working here. On the other hand, that twisted foot that had been twinging Henry's conscience shot back into his head with the force of a meteor. He knew that gait anywhere, but where had he seen it?

Wheelchair. Infirmary. Ink. War. Henry latched onto those four ideas, and finally suspicion that had been swirling became cold hard reality and he could not help but gasp.

"Joey? Joey, is that you?" The beast spat gooey ink in response. Henry couldn't believe his eyes. His former friend turned into this? This monstrous abomination that couldn't call himself human? He tiptoed away, but as Henry backed away, his friend advanced, making grabbing motions with those mangled arms of his. Henry's pocket warmed, and he slowly took the piece of paper out, keeping his eyes on the beast the whole time and maintaining the gap between them. So far, so good, Henry thought, as he took a peek at the new command that the letter had for him now: _Call for Sammy NOW._

"SAMMY LAWRENCE! GET YOUR ARSE HERE, I NEED YOUR HELP!" The beast had evidently heard him, and a roar of rage burst through that eternal smile as the beast dashed towards Henry. Hightailing his ass out of harm's way, Henry continued to call for Sammy even as Joey filled the air with his screams, his ink-smeared hands scratching the walls and spattering the dark liquid everywhere.

Just as Henry was losing hope, the door right ahead of him opened.

"In here! Hurry!" Henry gratefully jumped into the room while the door shut with a reassuring thud. He allowed himself to fall to the ground, half-dazed with panic and very relieved not to be outside right now. Henry was safe for now, as Joey continued to screech unnaturally, tearing apart furniture in a bid to search for him.

"Wow, thanks." He used his arms to push against the floor, hoping to catch a glimpse of his rescuer before exhaustion overwhelmed him completely. _Let's see, black hair, black dress, white pasty skin, thick and luscious lips, a halo and horns_.

 _One is not the same as the others._ "Huh? Alice Angel?" Henry exclaimed, causing the cartoon figure to place a finger against her lips and shush him loudly.

"Quiet! Do you want him to hear us?" She whispered under her breath, and Henry could not help but mutter an apology in return. Alice looked around, her ears visibly waggling in position as she tried to make out the noise of Joey's rampage. Luckily for the both of them, it didn't take long for Joey to move away in search of Henry. The former head of Joey Drew Studios couldn't see very well, and Henry thanked the stars above that Joey's ears weren't good enough to find him here.

"Okay, the coast is clear." She gave a sigh of relief as she leaned back, crossing her legs. "Sammy, do you think you're up to give your friend an explanation?" Henry jolted, eyes scanning the darkness of the room. After a while, the figure who had tried to knock him out emerged from the shadows, clutching the handkerchief Henry had abandoned. Henry could see that unlike before, the figure wasn't shuffling the edges of his pants, but had instead made audible footsteps as the floor beneath them creaked with motion.

"Yeah. I think so." Sammy copied Alice, sitting such that he faced Henry directly, fingers still curled around the ink-spattered cloth. They stared at each other, Henry soaking in his old friend's new appearance. He couldn't speak, choked with horror and dismay as he caught sight of Sammy's exposed ribs and four-fingered hands. Sammy's arms were thin, though not twisted, and any muscle Sammy had possessed before had withered and wasted away. Unlike Alice, who had clearly distinct outlines where her features were, Sammy's torso looked as though it had been through the meat grinder, with all too many ribs in places Henry knew they shouldn't exist. He was like a caricature of himself, which would be funny if it wasn't so terrible.

"Thanks for the rescue." Henry began, hoping to ease the tension in the room. Why didn't he call Sammy up when he returned? Was the urge to not think of Joey Drew Studios so overpowering that it extended to the rest of his former co-workers? Sammy nodded, visibly tensing as his grip on the ink-stained handkerchief tightened.

"I should. be the one. thanking you." Sammy stuttered out in a half-strangled voice as he waved the handkerchief in his face in an attempted lackadaisical manner. However, he whisked it back, fingers smearing more ink all over the piece of cloth when Henry reached for it. "You. wiped my. face before."

"So you remember me then?" Henry couldn't help but grin. Sammy was reluctant to show appreciation in any form, so admitting that he had a weakness must have been anathema to the old Sammy. Henry wasn't sure if this was completely the man he once knew though, the sunken stomach that was way too thin and the spastic, twitchy way Sammy held onto the cloth worried him.

"Bits and pieces." Sammy answered. Then his face appeared to slump, his eyelids closing while his mouth tipped into a stroke patient's smile, drooping and tilted.

"Hey, Sammy? Sammy?" Henry raised his hands, waving them in Sammy's face. Sammy jerked, eyes rolling till Henry could see the whites of his eyes. The former music director curled up into a fetal position as he started wailing, legs folded to his chest as he rocked in position.

 _"I'm sorry my Lord, forgive your Prophet for being unable to sacrifice this tender sheep..."_ Henry edged away, uncomfortable with the sudden mania that had taken over the former music director.

"He's gone back into his head again. Poor guy." Alice shook her head in disappointment, before turning her attention towards Henry. "I don't know you personally, but Sammy claims that you used to work here before the Second World War? Henry, was it?"

"Yeah. Joey sent me some strange, magical letter, and there was word that you guys had gone missing, so I came, hoping to speak to Joey about it." Henry shrugged as he retrieved the piece of paper from his pocket. Alice stuck her hand out, and Henry relinquished it to her, hoping for more clues about it.

"...The words looked printed, but that's his signature alright." Alice peered at it. "That's our company's stationary, at least before it...you know, became like this." She waved her hands at the surrounding room, which appeared to be a storage cupboard.

"What happened?" Henry worriedly asked as he felt his legs getting pins and needles all over. He stood up, and Alice followed him with her eyes as he paced the room. "I mean, obviously Joey's gone nuts, but I need a clearer picture. Why didn't you send for help?"

"Norman tried to get aid, but ended up melting into an ink puddle the moment he stepped out of the studio." Alice sadly replied. "You heard Wally's recordings right? Joey made us donate stuff to appease the gods, and those that did couldn't leave the studio afterwards."

"Was that thing chasing us Joey? I couldn't recognise him at first!" Henry banged his fist against the wall for emphasis, before allowing his palm to slide down.

"I don't know how, but he locked us all in tight spaces and started chanting, then we found ourselves either cartoons or those ink creatures outside." Alice responded. "...I know I look like this, but I used to be human. I just woke up like this." Alice helplessly shrugged, while Henry recalled the list of missing names that had turned up on the lawyer's desk.

"Susie Campbell?" Henry flicked his fingers, recalling the packet of papers that one of Susie's sisters had sent _and_ the recording that had been lying near the recording studio. "Your sister was the first one to raise the alarm." Alice's eyes lit up, and she gave a cat-like smirk.

"She did? I'm glad. Besides the two of us, there's Wally, and Norman before he disappeared. And Mr. Drew, though he certainly won't be getting out now looking like this."

"...Alice, that's five. Who was the last one?"

"...He took the ink bottle from somewhere, said it was from one of the animators." Henry bowed his head, deep in thought. There were many pieces of the puzzle, and all he needed to do was to piece them together. Sammy was in his mind at certain times, and clearly not at others. However, he was lucid enough to start poring over the Ink Machine's blueprint back in his office, yet in his current state, it was unlikely that he could examine them without Susie's help.

"Has Sammy let you in his office before?" He questioned, trying to ascertain how Sammy had gotten the blueprints in the first place.

"No!" Alice could not help but let out a chuckle. "He was always so secretive about his 'sanctuary', as he called it. We only knew its existence afterwards, when Norman heard him complaining about not being to go there again."

"Because I've just been there, and I found the blueprints to the Ink Machine. Mark 2, and whoever's engineered it gave it to two people to manage: Murray Hill, and Wally Franks."

"Well, I don't know who this Murray Hill is, but Wally Franks? He's the janitor."

"Can we find him?" Alice turned her head towards one of the walls that had planks covering a corroded spot, and opened her mouth.

"Wally!" The ink puddle bubbled, and Henry scrambled to his feet in alarm as something emerged, like a devil from the pits of hell. Instead, it was yet one of those Searchers, though it seemed, different. More shiny. Less eager to dash at him and drown.

"Su~Susie." It sang. "Who's this? Who's this?"

"Wally, meet Henry. He's one of Mr. Drew's friends from before the war." The benign Searcher mimed a bow, as much as an ink creature could bow in his position. Henry nodded his head in return, feeling utterly lost. So this young man had not emerged as well from the 'transformation' as Alice had. He didn't even have a defined body like Sammy!

"Oh, is he? Seems kind of old. Odd." 'Wally' slithered around Henry. "Can he help us? Help us?"

"Get me 'The Illusion of Living'. It should be on the pedestal at the break room."

"Who? Who could have used it to turn the Ink Machine on?" Henry's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as Alice and 'Wally' stared at him. "Oh-oh, this one. Okay! Be back in a jiff!"

"That idiot janitor, always careless with his keys and now with his sense of direction." Henry's head jerked back to where Sammy had been curled up. The music director's grievance could be heard loud and clear as he uncoiled.

"Sammy! Wally's young and he can't help it!" Alice placed her hands on her hips, glaring down as Sammy returned the gesture with a growl.

"Well, he should have learnt from losing his keys more than three times a week!" Henry had the faint feeling that this argument had been worn out with time. He cleared his throat, causing the two to turn their heads towards him.

"I've asked Wally to go back to look for Joey's journal for some clues. Sammy, I found the blueprints for the Ink Machine Mark 2. Why were you looking at it?" Sammy unconsciously tensed, his arms folded.

"I wanted to look for how to destroy it. Pity all Wally knew was to fix the machine up in case of ink spills again." Sammy's tone bore a glimmer of dissatisfaction. "I don't know why Joey brought the Ink Machine in the first place; I mean we were supposed to be doing colour just as all of the other studios were. Then he goes about saying that we needed more ink and then buys this machine from Murray Hill and assembles it too!"

"The thing frequently flooded our area!" Alice chipped in, "And the animators complained that they were missing on deadlines as well! Some of them quit because they couldn't stand the smell of ink anymore." Alice stopped, staring at Henry.

"Henry, you don't seem to be bothered at all by the smell. I mean we've all gotten used to it, but don't you think it's overpowering at first?" Henry paused, wondering how to explain his...unique circumstances to them. Luckily for him, it was at that moment that Wally emerged from one of the walls, wielding Joey's book like a panhandler with his gold.

"Found it! Found it!" 'Wally' the janitor replied as he handed it over to Henry. "Can you read it?" Henry flipped through the book, scanning for more details as to what Joey thought. It had started off normally, a daily record of events at the studio. Henry could not help but chuckle as it elucidated how Sammy and Joey had gotten into an argument about bacon soup, with Henry forcibly stopping the quarrel in its tracks by bodily lifting Joey off the floor and carrying him back to his room while Sammy slunk off in a huff. Then, news of his draft by the army arrived. Henry skipped the pages of horror and outrage as Joey expressed his rage at the army, at Henry for leaving them.

Then it got strange. Talk of colour devolved into having cartoons that could be made with _live action._ Broadcasting companies unwilling to set aside budgets for more Bendy shorts, which were perfectly normal in Henry's opinion. Disturbing statements that said Joey would 'show them all', whatever that meant. And finally, what Henry had been looking for: a ritual that would bring cartoons to life. Using objects made from those who were 'passionate about what they loved'.

"So that's it." Wally made a close approximation of a frown as he stared at the book in disgust. "Make us cartoons? Sounds stupid."

"It shouldn't have worked." Henry stated. "Joey has no idea of how an actual ritual is supposed to be conducted. Where does he get the energy?"

"Energy? Henry, what are you talking about?" Alice interjected. "Oh, don't tell me that you've gone mad too!" She quaked as Henry pushed her aside and headed towards Sammy with a look of pure concentration. "Henry?"

"Sammy, give me your hands." Henry firmly extended his. "I've got an idea." Sammy confusedly gave him his hands, and Henry carefully enwrapped his fingers with the former music director's, hoping not to accidentally place a finger through Sammy's actual limb.

Moments later, a scream shot out of the room.

* * *

 _CLICK!_

 _"Hello, Joey Drew Studios, Norman speaking."_

 _"Hey, you're working for Joey, right?" The voice on the other end of the phone seemed hesitant. Almost as if he didn't want to say anything. Guilt?_

 _"Yeah, but if you are looking for broadcasting enquires, you'll do better asking at the public relations and merchandising department."_

 _"No, no, it's a former employee. Could you get someone to destroy the things I left behind? I was drafted, and I forgot all about it until today."_

 _"This is..."_

 _"Henry. I think my former workstation is in the dead end on the first floor, at least when I was there."_

 _"Dunno what you're talking about man."_

 _"...He must have gotten rid of them then. Then it's fine."_

 _"Do you want to speak to Mistah Drew then?"_

 _"No, no it's fine, he has better things to do then to talk to someone who left."_

 _CLICK!_

* * *

"Find him, Boris," Boris nodded. Bendy was so helpful! First he woke up Boris, and then Alice. Though Alice was odd, she claimed that she was called 'Susie' instead. But that's okay, Boris liked the name Susie a whole lot better. Bendy didn't like it though..."Hey, Bendy, who was that?" Bendy allowed a hiss to escape his mouth, teeth clenched.

" **That was a traitor!** " Bendy continued by gesturing to the lettering on the wall. **"He lied to us! Left us for his own dreams!"** Bendy flailed, arms outstretched as he tried not to give in to his anger in front of Boris, which was nice! Boris hated not seeing anything!

 **"You won't leave me, would you Boris?"** The warning was laced with a hint of a threat, and Boris swung his head from side to side, ears waggling along.

"Nu-uh." Boris had came to with his nerves screaming in agony and the ink on him hot and wet and sticky. He wouldn't like to experience it again!


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Warning, stream of consciousness is hard to read._

 _"Sammy, stand up and give me your hands._ " The **traitor** wait no he isn't he's _Henry_ **Traitor!** walked towards Sammy. The Prophet wanted to call the traitor out, but Sammy didn't think that the outsider would want to harm Sammy. After all, Sammy had done everything for his Savior yes? Shouldn't he have a chance to hold his friend's **no he's a traitor, knock him down,** ** _kill -_** hand. Sammy hadn't felt something so warm in a long time, the ink was so cold and Sammy had drowned **pay attention fool, he's interlocking his fingers with you, trapping you** under that tap. Spirit tapped on solidified ink and bone beneath that, while Henry breathed in his ear, telling him to calm down.

"Focus on my voice. See? Five fingers on each hand, each interlocking with yours. Look at my feet; two solid ones. Think back to the time that you last saw yourself in the mirror. What did you see?" The Prophet was curious, what was Henry yammering about? **Kill him, he is distracting you from the true Cause,** no wait Sammy wanted to see where this was going. Sammy glanced down, staring at how his trousers brushed against the ink-stained wooden panels. Oh how disgusting, Sammy's legs were like two pieces of lead pipe, heavy and numb and he couldn't feel his toes **Of course you can't anymore, finish him! The Savior demands it!** What was Ross going on about, he's talking to Joey, are they shouting? What is Joey doing in his office? What's going on?

 **Fire! You're on fire!** The warmth had increased in temperature and Sammy felt like he was burning from the inside out, tossed into a roaring hearth by an unforgiving Lord. **He's betrayed us all, and you believed him you gullible bastard** Sammy protested, he had not expected Henry to betray them, he didn't oh please the Savior bring them **us** to safety. Sammy could not help it, pains and needles were attacking his nerves everywhere and he started screaming, cursing Henry's name even as he refused to let go-

 _"Woah._ " Wally that stubborn brat he's still here, didn't Sammy tell him to get out? Sammy was disappointed, did no one listen to him anymore! _"What the hell did you do?"_

 _"Sammy, just look, look at yourself!"_ That was sweet Susie, who was born for better things than just pretending to be a cartoon character. Susie who was the only light in these last dark days. Susie, yes Susie was trustworthy and so Sammy stared at himself just as Susie had said. He glanced at his fingers, still interlocked with Henry's as the glow around the two receded, but now there were five where there were once four. They were still ink-stained, but it didn't seem as though they would dissolve into liquid the moment Sammy was squashed like a bug, and so was the rest of his arms. He wriggled now discernible toes, and raise a foot before letting it fall with a loud thump against the floor.

"I-I..." Sammy's voice sounded hoarse with disuse, but now rather than the ink-clogged despair that he had grown used to hearing, it was purely from the vocal chords, his own voice leaving him stunned. "I'm _human..."_ He gasped as Henry released his grip on Sammy's hands. Sammy looked above, where his ink-spattered rib cage stuck out from under his skin, a pronounced belly visible. His trousers fitted again, a far cry from what he saw in dusty windows and broken mirrors that littered the music department where he roamed in search of his Savior. Even the Prophet's voice remained silent, reeling in shock from the unexpected yet delightful transformation.

"HENRY!" Sammy's head jerked, eyes searching in the dimly lit room. Had Henry did this to him, changed him back? He had to thank Henry for what he did, Sammy was free of that inky dark abyss and this was all due to his friend, Henry Henry Henry...

"Urgh...This is even worse than I thought..." Sammy's ears locked on to the sound of his precious friend's **Creator's** voice, and he could not help but let a screech emerge from his lips at the sight of Henry's image flickering in and out, sometimes opaque, sometimes translucent, and clearly _not fine._ Last Sammy checked, most humans do not lose their solidity. Then again, most humans do not turn bodies of ink and darkness to human flesh, so exceptions must be made. Still, Sammy crouched beside him as Henry's outline became indistinct from the dust in the room.

"What did you do?" Wally's voice echoed as the ink creature that was once Joey Drew Studios' janitor followed Susie **Alice** as she attempted to help Henry up, but Henry **New Savior?** waved them away, holding himself up against a nearby wall.

"This is a lot worse than I thought." Henry moaned, shaking his head as he flickered less often. "Wow. Sugar rush."

"You must be dreaming." Sammy's voice found its snappishness back, as worry for Henry turned to frustration. "What the hell man? Are you going to kill yourself because of someone like me? Don't think too much of yourself!"

"Hah, I wish." Henry smirked as he eyed Sammy warmly, even as his breathing remained heavy. "I'm a wizard. Partially undid whatever was on you, but not all the way. We need to look at the blueprints to get you guys back to normal." _Wizards? Henry, you never said anything about this before? What gives? I've never seen you doing magic in the ten years I've known you, why use it now?_

"Huh? Wait, I don't get it. Get it." Wally queried even as he did the ink equivalent of sitting back on his haunches. "Wizards exist? Magic is real?"

* * *

"Sort-of." Henry shrugged as Alice gave him a pointed glare. "...If you were to ask my grandfather, he would say that it was due to our long tradition of painting for merchants and nobility that we started wanting more out of our portraits and landscapes. This led to us putting in a bit more than the average Court Painter, thus enriching our work with more life than ordinary artists. For me, magic is something that our willpower manifests in reality with intent." Henry waved over to Sammy. "I think he may have figured it out."

Sammy's face was a perfect image of comical surprise. If Henry had the energy to, then the former animator would have laughed right till he had no tears. Now that it wasn't dripping ink and forming new ink at the same time, Henry could make out Sammy's browline furrowing in thought as he tried to understand what Henry was alluding to.

"'It's time to believe.'" Henry quoted. "Most rituals require intent to carry out what they are supposed to do; I'm guessing that Joey managed to obtain the energy needed to transform his employees into cartoons through this thing." He tapped the blueprints, "But he neglected the intent. Only he wanted to completely transform, the others were unwilling. That's how only Susie managed to transform into an imitation of Alice, but even that is screwed up because she still retained her memories."

"...If you know so much about it, then can you transform us back as well?" 'Wally' quietly whispered, voice reverberating with hope. Henry didn't want to disappoint the little guy, but he knew that what he had was not enough, and thus he could metaphorically hear the sounds of their hearts breaking as he shook his head.

"I can't completely undo Sammy's, and that was only because the ritual on him was screwed halfway and I was familiar with him. You two, on the other hand need the complete reversal of the ritual for anything to happen." Henry explained. "Which is why I'm studying the ritual while we rest up in a safe location." He turned his attention to Sammy, who was still looking at his humanised body with awe. Henry was happy to see joy on Sammy's face once more, but he had to interrupt Sammy's introspection in order to solve the remaining problems.

"Sammy, I hate to ask you this, but can we use your sanctuary? I'm afraid that I won't be able to defend myself while I'm still unsteady, and yours is more securely locked than anywhere else." Sammy pursed his lips, about to protest on instinct but Alice shot him down with a piercing glare.

"...Fine. Let's go." Sammy stood up, pausing as Wally slept through the cracks while Alice opened the door, looking around for any signs of Joey lurking.

"There's something that you're not telling us, and I don't believe that you being a wizard is the end of it." Henry grinned, baring his teeth. Yep, that was the old suspicious Sammy back. Henry didn't even know how much it irritated him, memories having been worn away by time. Well now, Henry was feeling the brunt of Sammy's rough personality and he didn't like the feeling of being exposed.

"I'll say it once you get your original bodies back." He replied, rolling his eyes when Sammy huffed, extending one thin bony arm to help Henry back on his feet. However, before Sammy was able to heave Henry up, Alice screamed, alerting them to someone outside the door.

" **Henry..."** Bendy gurgled, peering through the doorway like the terrifying monster that Joey had transformed into. **"Come back!"** Henry felt around for that ever present letter that Joey had written to him, hoping for some kind of clue as to how to navigate this crisis. Yet again, it was exceedingly unhelpful. _PARLEY._

 _"_ Joey," The creature barked at him. "Alright, Bendy, Bendy then. Why did you ask me to come here? Can't we have a chat for once?"

 **"Chat? CHAT? You betrayed us all! You left just as when the going got good, and when the war was over, you didn't come back!"** The beast thrust open the door, sending Alice flying with a squeal. It bent down, gazing down at Henry as Sammy slid away. Henry didn't blame the man; after all, Bendy was terrifying enough to have sent Sammy into mental disarray. Close encounters would have done his emotions little better were Henry to be in Sammy's position.

"We had a break-up of relationships before then." Henry began, mind working furiously. What was Joey planning to do to him? Obviously, whatever ritual Joey had followed hadn't worked the way that Joey wanted. Did he want to reverse it? Or finish it such that everyone was in perfect cartoon form? "I didn't want to do Bendy anymore, so I..."

 **"So you _did_ abandon us!" **shrieked Joey in anger as hot, inky breath blew over Henry's face in a hot rush of fear and terror. _Strange, why those two emotions specifically?_

"Look, I didn't even go back to animation! All I did were small illustration projects! I moved on! Things aren't as simple as pursuing Bendy's success and leaving you behind!" That was probably the exact wrong thing to say, as Joey screamed in rage, ink melting off his face while the room practically gushed with the dark liquid.

 **"I couldn't do it without ya. The numbers made my head spin, and I thought I could solve it all. Cuttin' costs on ink would help us protect Bendy. But you couldn't come back, could'ya? All you did was stay away, mind your own business. Well, damn it all!"** An inky fist broke the wall right above Henry's head, sending splinters of wood everywhere. Henry could not help himself, wincing as one buried itself barely inches from his leg.

"I told you in a letter the reason why I couldn't return! I thought you understood! And then you send me a letter one bright afternoon, telling me about this newfangled thing and saying that it will save your company. Well, how did you like your company now, Joey?" Henry was feeling particularly foolish, and it showed as he hollered defiantly back at his former friend.

 **"I tell you what that nice man Murray Hill said."** Joey hissed as he reared his fist back for another blow. **"He said that those who wanted to could do anything. And I used your ink bottle because I know how much I thought you loved Bendy. But you didn't, did ya? All you saw him was a money-making nest egg, and you treated him like that!"**

"So you used my things to create animated cartoons? That's exactly where you screwed up, Joey! Once you use a thing without the owner's approval, your 'intent' gets perverted beyond recognition!" Henry warned, hoping that Joey could see what he was aiming at. "Using me in anything won't work. I don't work for you anymore, and you can't try to use the ritual again!"

 **"The Ink Machine will help, Henry. Can't you see? Bendy will be popular. You and I, together once more..."** Henry was helpless, trapped against a wall as Joey lurched towards him.

"JOEY! STOP!" Henry's eyes widened in surprised as multiple voices rang throughout the room. He squinted, peering into the doorway. Sammy had rushed up to their former employer, eyes bloodshot but pupils focused entirely on Joey as he was restrained by multiple Searchers.

 _"_ **Oh, Sammy, what's up with you? You seem different."** Sammy narrowed his eyes, body radiating disgust as he shoved one of the Searchers between Henry and Joey. Upon closer inspection, Henry discovered that the 'Searcher' was actually 'Wally' pretending to be one.

"I am different, no thanks to you!" Sammy cried back, hands curling into fists. Meanwhile, Wally motioned for him to slip by while Joey's attention was being held. Henry rejected that notion upon seeing Sammy trembling even as he faced Joey head on, and a plan formed within the deep fertile compost of his mind. Henry decided that he was going to play Joey's game, but in his own manner.

"Tell Alice to find Boris and lure all of the searchers back into the Ink Machine room. I suspect that's where Joey will take us there." Wally hesitated upon hearing his instructions, but Henry remained firm as the former janitor reluctantly slipped back out of the room.

"Look, evidently this Murray Hill has ulterior intentions in mind, don't you think?" Henry, as he used to do, interrupted the ongoing verbal fight between Sammy and Joey by cutting them mid-speech, eyes forward, hands outstretched, conveniently shielding Sammy away from view.

"You need a competent person who knows the ins and outs of any magic ritual. I'm your man." Henry could see Sammy relaxing, but still wringing his hands in desperation. "I know how to get your point across. I can help!"

 **"...You won't run?"** Joey suspiciously questioned, and Henry make his head shake vigorously in an attempt to convince his former friend.

"As long as I am treated as your friend, then I won't." Henry assured him, as he wrapped an arm around Sammy. "Sammy here can attest to that, can't he?"

"Y-Yes." Sammy quizzically quirked an eyebrow as Joey made an approving noise. Softly, he whispered, "Henry, what are you up to now?"Henry gave him a reassuring pat on the back as he turned towards Joey, motioning him with a free arm. "Coming?"

It could have been just like old times. Joey used to saddle himself between the two with a cheerful thump, Sammy grumbling about his childishness while Henry remaining silent as they acted as support for Joey to move without his wheelchair. Only, now their positions were reversed, with Sammy silent, Joey snarling every time Henry moved slightly faster than Joey wanted him to, and Henry with his arm wrapped around Sammy for support.

Henry couldn't help but miss the thirties. Sure, it was difficult, working multiple jobs to put food on the table, but he had dreams of seeing Bendy on the big screen. Oh, he was happy that Bendy was there, but it didn't feel as though Bendy was how he had spun him. Bend was more resentful, pettier than what he had imagined. He bit back, and the Hays Code and Joey Drew Studios tussled as to how to artistically portray the little devil correctly. And then after the war...

Stop, hold that thought. Henry told himself that it was no use crying over spilt milk. What's done is done, and all he needed to do is to focus. Prepare the ritual such that all of Joey Drew Studios would turn back to normal. Make sure that Sammy and Joey don't kill each other. Yeah, Henry could do that.

Could he?

* * *

 _"Henry!" His poor wife had dropped the metal bowl with a rattling clatter as Henry popped his head into the house. "Children, your father's back!" The pitter-patter of feet could be heard echoing through the hallway as his sons emerged from their rooms for a glimpse of their father. Henry could not help but bend down, allowing Ben and Henry Jr. to hug him enthusiastically._

 _"Children? Let me have some time with your father. Have you done with your homework?" With a put-upon sigh, Ben and Junior reluctantly relinquished Henry and dashed off, hoping to get some moments with him before bedtime. He could hear his wife's little sigh as he put down his discharge papers onto the coffee table, watching as she folded her arms._

 _"You don't have to expand energy to make me feel comfortable, dear." May's lip trembled. "I can see it as clear as day. What happened to you? Why are you like this?" Her eyes had turned to glistening steel, her brows furrowed as she stared at the ground._

 _Henry hid no secrets from his wife. He told her about his ancestry, his part-time jobs. Hiding this from her would be near impossible. After all, Henry was always a bad liar._

 _"War." He responded, feeling age sag down on his shoulders like dumbbells. "War happened, dear."_


	4. Chapter 4

_"Daddy, daddy-" Henry turned to find his younger son grabbing at his shirt, tears streaming down his cheeks as he stared hopefully at Henry._

 _"Can we stay here? I like it here." Ben asked shyly, looking down at his feet._

 _"I'm sorry, Ben." Henry extended his hand to brush Ben's head, "We have to move. Daddy's got another job on the other side of the country."_

 _"'kay." Ben mouthed as he called for Henry Jr. Henry felt his heart clench upon seeing Ben's disappointment, but it was simply impossible to work in the animation industry again. Not with so much heartbreak tethered to Joey Drew Studios and its employees._

 _"I've sent in your letter." May came up to him, curling one strand of hair behind her ear. "Along with our new address."_

 _"Good." Henry responded in a clipped tone as he bowed his head. "I'm sorry you have to leave your job."_

 _"It's fine." She said tersely as Henry reached out for her hand. She grasped it, interlocking their fingers together. Unbidden, May stared at his feet, as though searching for something that couldn't be found._

 _"Let's go." Henry bit his lip as they departed the home that until two years ago, was just fifteen minutes walk from his old workplace. He wondered what Joey was doing now?_

* * *

"Henry. What ya plannin'" Sammy softly whispered in his ear as Joey lumbered, falling behind them as he usually did without a crutch of his own. Now that he confirmed that Henry wasn't going to run, the monster that Joey had turned into grew smaller, more human like. Unlike Sammy's previous form, Joey's face closely resembled the dancing devil, with cartoony grin, pie-cut eyes and ink dripping down over a part of his face. Ink did not so much drip as it shed like dog's fur as Joey walked, causing the wood panels, already stained, to become even more greasier and harder to walk in. Joey's hands were mangled to a greater degree, with one hand in Bendy's glove, only with five fingers rather than four, while the other remained human but lost a pinky, leading to unsteady scratches against the wall as Joey pushed against it.

Henry recognised that 'Wally' needed enough time to gather all of the Searchers, which meant that he needed to get Joey there beforehand in order to arrange the ritual. If the Ink Machine was the centrepiece, then someone with exactly the opposite intent would be able to get the employees back into their original bodies, he posited.

" **Sammy, stop whispering! People aren't gonna hear you if you whisper!"** Sammy tensed as Joey roared at them, trembling in place as the two came to a stop. Henry gave him a reassuring shoulder squeeze, before swinging his head back towards Joey.

"Why don't you come here? Me and Sammy can give you a shoulder lift. Be like old times!" Henry tapped at his other shoulder.

"I-Isn't this comical...we are all leaning against each other...but our positions are all wrong..." Sammy hissed out as Joey gave a half-choked giggle. Evidently, Sammy knew the importance of putting Joey at ease, but he definitely was uncomfortable with this position, so Henry adjusted Sammy's other arm onto his shoulder, while tossing an arm around Joey.

"We might as well start singing as well." Henry started humming Judy Garland's debut tune as Sammy gave him a disbelieving glance.

"You can't just sing out of nowhere!" Sammy snapped as Joey joined in the song. The former music director threw them both disgusted looks, but it wasn't as if they would stop singing, so with a sigh and a look of 'I hope you know what you're doing, because this is just pure foolishness', he started crooning along as well.

 _Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high_  
 _There's a land that I've heard of once in a lullaby._  
 _Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue_  
 _And the dreams that you dare to dream,_  
 _Really do come true._

 _Someday I'll wish upon a star_  
 _And wake up where the clouds are far behind me._  
 _Where troubles melt like lemon drops,_  
 _Way above the chimney tops,_  
 _That's where you'll find me._

 _Somewhere over the rainbow, blue birds fly_  
 _Birds fly over the rainbow_  
 _Why then, oh why can't I?_

* * *

"Crap, here's another!" Alice swore under her breath as she captured one of those that had been loitering around the recording studio, scooping it into an mason jar with a delighted 'ah ha'! Meanwhile, Wally was screeching in fear as at least four or five of the Searchers surrounded him. Alice could have palmed her face at that. Wally's carelessness was legendary, but even so, she thought that he was more capable of escaping his current predicament. With a huff and a sigh, she attempted to make her way to his side, but the Searchers around her caught her attention first.

"Alice, a bit of help!" Wally called out, frightened and worried.

"A bit busy!" One of them was attempting to grab at her ankles, and let out a surprised growl as she jabbed down at it with a pointy heel. Where one was destroyed, two more tried to take its place, only for Alice to swing down at them again.

"Ah, thanks." Alice jerked her head sideways as something seemed to provoke the Searchers to leave Wally alone. "Hey, what? What are you doing here!"

"Bendy asked me to come here!" She could not help but gasp as Boris' voice rattled throughout the recording studio, causing the Searchers still free to rush towards her, hoping to pin her down through sheer force of numbers. Alice quickly taught them a lesson not to.

Why was Boris here? Should she trust them? The gullible and naive wolf would listen to anyone and everyone, even Joey on his bad days when the creator thought that she needed a lesson of her own. He could be described as Joey's lieutenant, but even so, Boris was too hard to dislike. When one was as simple as he acted, it was easier to blame Joey, even if Boris had been doing the deeds of his own free will. Alice could not pinpoint exactly why Boris followed Joey though. What benefits did Joey give that he hadn't granted to the rest of his former employees?

"Boris, can you help me with these as well?" As if in reply, a clear note burst out from the clarinet, causing the Searchers to wander wildly, vibrating about their position as Alice jumped over the nearest one and find Wally. She discovered the two of them, along with a host of Searchers in different stages of decomposition. Unlike Henry's antics with an axe, some of them couldn't be simply countered with a single blow, and it was often easier to trap them under planks or into jars. However, Boris' method was somewhat unusual.

Each time one arose, Boris whacked at them with a wrench before throwing them up into the air. Then, he would have them fall in a jar before shutting the lid. It seemed relatively easier than what she had been trying, and Alice thought for a while. Soon, a plan was formed.

"Boris, can you get all of these Searchers into the Ink Machine Room?"

"Huh? Why?" Alice rapidly grabbed at a convenient excuse. Who would Boris listen to? Bendy. Therefore, in Bendy's name it was!

"Bendy said so." She placed her hands on her hip, pursing her lip and taking a confident stance. Hopefully, this would be enough to fool Boris into thinking this came straight from the creator.

"Oh, okay!" Boris lifted the clarinet to his mouth, and soon, multiple Searchers were appearing, creeping up from below the ground, between the walls, and as he played, more and more continued to show up.

"If Henry hasn't got a good enough plan, we're all doomed. We can't manage with that many." Wally muttered under his breath as Alice and he moved to the back of the trail of Searchers, peering into the darkness in order to search for more of their former co-workers and friends. "Who would have thought that Boris was the Pied Piper of Hamlin, and play his way into those things' hearts?"

"Watch your words, Wally." Alice murmured. "They are our former friends."

"Former friends that tried to drown us all." Wally snapped back.

* * *

 **"This is what I want to show you."** Joey asked as he used the ink to pull up chairs for the three of them, There, they sat in a circle as the Ink Machine churned on, producing more and more ink out of seemingly nowhere. **"Impressive, isn't it?"** His voice was cocksure, almost as if purring in pride at the machine that had turned his employees into cartoons at best or creatures of split consciousness at the very least.

"I guess you can say that." Henry had only surveyed it superficially once he had turned on, but now as he stared at it further, with full knowledge of what havoc it had created, Henry knew that he had to focus onto what it was meant to do. Where was the energy taken from? How had it sustained itself for the last few weeks? If Joey Drew Studios had been foreclosed, then the main power should have been shut off. Six objects were needed for the initial ritual to start, but what about the maintenance?

 **"You came back."** Henry swivelled facing Joey as the ink that had been dribbling down his cheek reversed direction, as though it was sucked up. Then Joey started to _hiccup,_ and the tears of black stained Bendy's face as he started sobbing of all things. **"This place was empty without you...Yes..."** Henry wondered where Joey was going with his train of thought. Back then, Henry thought with nostalgia, Joey was the producer and script writer, and thus he often went through Bendy's lines whenever they were having meals. Henry would interpret his script into actual frames before the two would work on the in-between animations together. Yes, this often led to blurs between professional and personal relationships as Joey tended to go into work without thinking of the situation they were in, but Henry had enjoyed it. Once. As time passed and they grew larger, Joey and Henry had seen each other less often, with Henry heading the key frames while Joey had his own office and managed relations with the distributors.

Things grew difficult as Bendy became more popular. Joey had idiotically signed a contract that stated that they had to produce more cartoons than what their workforce was able to finish, leading to missing deadlines, overworked animators and voice actors and stress and tension building all around as Joey shouted more, Sammy grew irate with the demands on his time and Henry skipped meals. By the Forties, Henry had went beyond his limit and could not sleep, mind poring over the issues of work. Being drafted by the army was at hindsight a long needed break from animation altogether, but Henry had been reluctant to leave until Joey had gotten unjustly mad at him.

Then it fell down the drain, and Henry and Joey had broken it off. After the war, Henry had penned a letter stating the reasons why he was not returning back to the animation studio after he had been discharged. He had mulled over it day and night, writing and rewriting it in his head before finally setting pen to paper in an effort to make things clear. But when Joey hadn't replied, Henry thought that their issues were too far gone to even remotely improve, and thus he had given up and moved across the country. When he received Joey's letter, he thought that their issues was water under the bridge, and jumped at the chance of restitching their relationship...

But now, knowing what Joey had resorted to, and hearing him...Henry regretted not giving things another chance. If Henry had returned, would Joey's temper have improved from before? Or would it have grown worse as his jokes became outdated and talent moved to the feature animation rather than to two-reels?

"...I wrote back." Henry responded, as he watched Alice head into the room. "Those cartoons..."

 **"The Ink Machine made them."** Joey's smile never changed as he stood up, hobbling over to the Ink Machine, and Henry couldn't help but wince as a squelching noise was made, twisting Joey's foot even further inward as he flailed about for a hold. At the same time, more and more Searchers followed in, led by Boris on the clarinet. So Boris had the ability to control the things huh...But 'Wally' the friendly Searcher, where was he?

 **"Look look!"** Joey energetically waved as Alice and Boris moved like puppets on broken string, jerking towards the two former friends as though Joey had summoned them to his side involuntarily. Alice had frustration written all over her, while Boris peacefully marched along as Joey told him to stand by his side while Alice inched closer towards Henry. **"See! These are our creations..."**

"Joey-" Alice began, but Joey murderously went up to her, and gave her a tight slap, ink upon ink, splashing ink on both of them. A dark hand print made its way across her face. Henry saw Sammy stand up in protest, wanting to protect the voice actress turned cartoon but being unable to do so as Alice shook her head in warning. Henry winced as the mark visible throbbed on Alice's cheek, but said nothing as Joey continued to rant. Sammy's face was haunted with fear, and he soon started murmuring, and Henry could barely make out the words "Prophet". Sammy had gone back into his head, allowing his hallucinations to take hold as fear drove his mind inwards and sent it wandering. Henry pitied the former music director, helpless and unable to do anything but listen to the chanting of the only thing he had to believe in.

 **"...We were meant to make it big! But no, they said that animated shorts weren't popular now, it was the time of life...live-action! Full of crazy stunts and bull-headed casting and little else in terms of plot! Everyone queuing up for the latest cowboy movie, no one willing to laugh as Bendy made his way across the screen. And they wanted colour. Colour! When back in our heyday there wasn't any need to do so even as Disney's _Silly Symphonies_ or Fleischer's _Bug_ were made!" **Joey continued, his body arched in anger, hands clenched in fist and raised upwards in supplication. Henry rolled his eyes. Joey could be dramatic when he wanted to, and this was no different. While it was good on a script (and Henry had used some of his facial expressions back when they were just starting out and praying that Joey didn't find out) the fact that Joey's face was still an imitation Bendy meant that all that Henry could make out was the open and shut of the grinning mouth.

"But you continued making them." Henry offered, as more and more Searchers made their way into the room. It was likely that this was the only source of entertainment that these guys had in weeks, and thus they were attracted like moths to the flame. Good. Henry needed all of them to be here for what he had in mind. There were at least twenty of them. Henry shivered as he recalled the various packets that the police had brought, pictures and details of workers who had never returned home, whose spouses and children were still waiting outside for Joey Drew's workers to come back.

It was like a war, Henry thought idly. People went to work, never came back, and their children waited outside hoping that they would remain safe when men were dying in the fields, or in some memorable events, dying in the hospitals. There was that war with Vietnam, and the one that Henry himself had been drafted into. Oh if he had never gone there in the first place...

 **"We did! But no one wanted to broadcast them. We got cancelled. And then, I had a brilliant idea. Why don't we use live-action as well? Lesser costs. And no one had it!"** Henry could not help but recoil as madness shone from Joey's face, eyes closed as though being enlightened by some higher deity. Joey must have been desperate, mind whirling with the cost of production, with wages and with bribes and this must have been some form of salvation to his woes. Pity that it also meant sacrificing his employees to the idolatry of animation and to the loss of his own conscience.

"...Joey, what exactly did you request from Mr. Murray Hill?" Connections were being made, but Henry didn't want to believe it from his friend even after hearing Alice's explanation of that fateful day. He wanted someone else to blame, anyone except the man whom he had been working for all those years.

" **I needed more ink to make cartoons, but the cost was too high!"** Joey proclaimed, voice exhilarated and far too delightful as he raised his arms in joy. **"So I used the Ink Machine. Oh yes, there were some issues-"** Alice mouthed the words, her eyes filled with incredulity **"-but in the end, we have cartoons! Alice and Boris and Bendy!"**

"You fool." Henry whispered, "Oh Joey, you've been tricked." He shook his head, knowing Joey couldn't see him as he stuck his hand out, placing it on the Ink Machine. It was a beautiful creation alright. It had been warped beyond its former purpose, and Henry was only putting an end to this tragedy.

Joey stilled. His hands sharpened to claws, his back buckled in outrage as he hissed, slathering ink onto the nearby Boris. The wolf whimpered, hurrying away. Alice too tried to escape the ongoing confrontation, tip-toeing to Henry's side.

 **"What do you mean?"** Joey hauntingly spoke, voice filled with ire. **"Henry, do you not see?"** He waved his arms invitingly towards the Ink Machine. **"Our dream! In our dimension!"** Henry shivered as Joey's passion swept through him with the pain of a thousand burning suns, burning him on the inside. Nostalgia overcame him, it could have been just like old times. But Henry knew that both he and Joey had to face reality, and thus the hold that Joey's words temporarily held over him melted like butter in the oven.

"Are they truly ours?" He asked, as an axe was quietly slipped into his grasp. Alice, bless her heart, knew that he needed something to destroy the Ink Machine, and had found the only weapon he had in this horrifying place. "Can you truly say that this is the same Bendy, Boris, and Alice that we wrote together?"

 **"Eh? Are you..."** Joey seemed to hesitate, giving Henry enough time to give one good swing onto the device. Metal hit wood with a shrieking 'crack' as the controls split into two, revealing the inner workings of the machine. Henry could recognise the gears alluded to by Sammy's blueprints, and heaved his axe over, preparing for a second blow.

 **"W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"** Joey caterwauled in horror as he reached out, grabbing for Henry, but Alice, having long sneaked onto Joey's side, reached out for his arm and held him back as Henry swung his axe towards the gears that he had spotted. Sammy, rushing forward, seemed confused, but upon hearing Alice's cries of encouragement, placed their former employer into a choke hold. Beads of ink sweat rolled down their foreheads as they exerted the effort needed to restrain Joey, but they managed to give enough time for one final blow, that separated the spigot firmly away from the rest of the machine. Joey, showing off more strength than Henry had ever seen from him, pushed them both aside, roaring in outrage.

 **"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!"** He moaned, pulling the gears back together, endeavouring to mend the machine, but all he did was to make the once pristine workings clog up with ink. **"...HENRY..."** Giving it up as a lost cause, he marched, clawing at open air, aiming for an opportunity to get close to Henry. Instead of waiting for the fatal blow, Henry rolled under the broken pipe, retaining the distance between him and his homicidal former boss.

"Let's do this!" Henry told himself, bracing as he reversed the ritual that had been written in ink and in blood on the rest of the studio. _Intent._ His intention had to overpower Joey's in order to succeed, and to do so, he would need ever last bit of energy to ensure that they weren't stuck as ink monstrosities.

Today was a good day.

* * *

Sammy was spellbound as the Ink Machine room was bathed in a warm glow. His eyes, long used to the dim light produced by candles, were struck blind as light raced from Henry, into the Machine, bouncing in smooth circular arcs as they covered the room. **He's going to make things worse! From being mere semblances of life, we will die!** The Prophet's voice was too loud for Sammy to bear, and he closed his painfully swollen eyes, urging for the Prophet to cease. A cold metallic taste filled his mouth. Blood. **Blood?** How was there blood? The ink should cover everything? His taste buds shouldn't even work!

A burning sensation started from his chest, radiating outwards as his skin started prickling. Unlike what Henry had done before, the prickling decided to go inside his body as well, and Sammy could feel something clenching and releasing, paralysed in its struggle as his spirit grew warm and comfortable in ways it hadn't done since the studio lost its broadcasting spot and unlike before, he could feel blood rushing into his head. Without warning, a throbbing pain wrecked his spine, and Sammy felt as though he was being pulled in all directions, little needles stuck everywhere and he could not help but scream in agony as muscles seemed to tear and repair themselves instantaneously.

Sammy felt something grazing his elbow, but unlike Henry's warmth, this felt cool, as though liquid separated the two. The only one who could be in that position was Susie **Alice** and Sammy needed to see what Susie had became, so he opened one still watering eye to find _Susie_ staring at him, dressed in the shawl and dress which he vaguely remembered having last seen her in. Wonder filled him as he opened the other eye, drinking in Susie's beam and her tender eyes and all the things that made Susie _Susie._

"Well aren't we a sight?" She commented, her Midlands accent clearer than before. She opened her mouth in awe, as she started on the vocal exercises that they had frequently ran through, first as practice, then as a coping mechanism when they had been turned into ink and cartoons. Sammy smiled as the sheer intensity of her voice rang through the air, and he gazed about in amazement, looking out for the rest of his co-workers.

Like Susie, the Searchers had transformed back into their original selves. Voice actors were either cheering together with the sound designers, or like Susie reciting phrases and words, enjoying the sounds of their own voices rather than the monotonous growls that their previous states permitted. The animators groggily tickled each other, probably welcoming the sensation of touch and flicking each other in mischief. One by one, they were all resuming their human appearances, savouring the joy of being _alive._

Sammy himself could still feel ink running down his previously pristine pants. The trousers, having remained free of ink throughout Sammy imprisonment within the studio, were now adopting the facts of reality and thoroughly ruined, but Sammy couldn't find himself to care. It was wonderful, being human once again.

Joey himself lay outstretched, motionless as he completely collapsed onto the floor face down. His foot, once placed in a cast, had been deformed to the point that it was unnatural, while he seemed to have grown more than a foot shorter. Wally was right beside him, wearing a set of overalls and little else. In one hand, he was holding a wrench, using the other to clutch his own head.

That didn't make sense. Unless they were in a similar state to Sammy, any transformed employee should have regained their own clothes. Why was Wally wearing _Boris'_ attire?

"Henry!" Sammy heard Susie squeal in alarm. That was right. Where was Henry? He had gone to the other side of the machine, so Susie must have been looking across the broken wreck. Sammy dashed over to the other side in trepidation, only to see a strange and perturbing sight.

Henry was visibly flickering, despite the lack of a candle illuminating his features. Opacity and transparency warred with each other, as Sammy's eyes saw a wheezing, grimacing old man in one moment, and in the next, nothing at all.

"So this is the infamous 'Living Wraith' then?" A chilling noise came from behind, and Sammy swivelled round to see a stranger, clad in a cloak and robes fit for a fantasy reenactment crossing his arms, a deceitful smirk playing on the lips as he cackled.

"W-What are y-you doing here..." Henry slowly pronounced, still flashing in and out like a poorly assembled projector. "Should I say 'Wally'?" _Wally?_ **Didn't we just see him there next to Joey?** Even the Prophet was confused. If Wally had been there, then who was this? No, Sammy corrected himself. Boris _was_ Wally Franks, and he really should have known, but the benign Searcher was not their employee.

"Nah, you can call me anything. It doesn't matter." The stranger tapped his feet. "After all, you got your goal already. Hurry up, stupid Wraith."

"Give me one more day." Henry heaved himself up, using the Ink Machine as a platform. "Let me get these poor guys out of here, Mr. Murray Hill. This should not have involved them in the first place.

 _ **W** H **A** AT? **?**?_


	5. Chapter 5

Susie could not believe her ears as she stared at who she had initially believed 'Wally' to be transformed into. A wizard? Wasn't Henry a wizard? Then who was this? Another wizard? What was her life now?

"Really, I go through so much trouble in order to find you, and all you do is to say 'Give me one more day'?" 'Wally', or to be more accurate, _Murray Hill_ chortled as he rested his hand against the Ink Machine just as Joey had done. "You really are persistent, Living Wraith."

"Then what do you want, he who has been 'Wally' and 'Murray Hill'?" Henry was still see-through, and Susie compared what she saw now to the time that he had turned Sammy halfway back to normal. What had happened? Why was Henry reacting to the stupid magic ritual like this?

"You're a wizard, aren't you? What else could I be looking for?" Murray Hill (for Susie can't very call him something else, could she?) asked, quirking a smirk. _Immortality?_ Susie definitely wanted to know what's going on, but something else interrupted her. The roof started to quiver suspiciously, and a few of the jars that had used to contain Searchers rattled. A layer of dust fell from the ceiling, alarming the rest of the employees.

"We've gotta get outta here!" Wally screamed, throwing his hands up in the air. "This joint's going to collapse on our heads!" Panic spread throughout the room as the newly transformed were struck paralysed. Susie could understand their hesitance. Previously, those who had tried to get help melted in the sun. Even if they looked like this now, would they be able to survive to see the outside? Susie searched about, trying to locate those who had bravely sacrificed themselves before, and her eyes met those of Norman Polk, who she had personally seen melting the moment sunlight fell.

"I'll go through first!" He shouted down the surprised employees as he walked out of the room. "Watch your step!"

"I'll follow!" Said one of the animators, calling behind his back. One by one, they left the room, eager to leave once and for all. Susie was impatient to get out of this place, but there was still the ongoing drama that was Henry's disappearing and reappearing antics. She switched her attention back to the Ink Machine, where Sammy and Wally were hefting an unconscious Joey back onto their shoulders.

"Susie, get out first!" Sammy ordered, "Henry said that he'll meet us outside!" Susie stood stunned. She wanted to retort, to say that he's got no right to tell her what to do, but her body unconsciously acted, quick strides leading her towards the exit. There were the posters of previous cartoons. There was the Haunted Desk, which once belonged to an employee that had left, character model sheets dropping off as the wall cracked, wood splinters falling on to the floor. Memories threaten to stop her in her tracks, nostalgia swimming in her veins as what had once been a prison was also the workplace of her dreams. It was dingy nailed over entry ways, nothing significant had changed.

It was like a second home to her. But nightmares and fulfilment of wishes had swum together, creating a whirlpool with the Ink Machine as the eye of the hurricane. There was no point in remaining here. Joey Drew Studios had collapsed. Some might say that its spirit was long gone, but Susie guessed that this was its actual death knell. She headed outside, nearly stepping into a new hole created just feet away from the exit. Outside, she could hear cheers, and closing her eyes, Susie leaped over the door-frame.

Sunlight, once a demon that threatened them, felt like the lights of heaven, and Susie could feel its warmth soaking into her skin. She didn't melt. Susie was free, and screams of wonder and enthusiasm met her ears as she reopened them. It was the morning, grass insidiously emerging from behind the pavement, weeds creeping along with previously well-maintained lawns, and vines encircling the outer walls of the building. A few employees had even starting lying on the grass, enjoying the morning. Time was but a marker as all the windows had been boarded up, lights produced by light bulbs and candles. What the sun shone on them was not just the progress of time, but also hope and love and all the things that had been sorely missed. The air smelled fresh and clean, a far cry from the musty and metallic air that hung throughout her inky prison like a spell. Perhaps it was, if magic existed that could turn people into cartoons and back again.

"Hey get out of the way!" Susie heard Sammy shouting, and turned to see the trio who had left after her emerging outside. The moment their feet went over the door-frame, it was as though the entire building had shuddered, death-rattle vibrating its structure. Then, like a deck of cards, it disintegrated, taking both good and bad experiences along with it.

"Where's Henry?" She cried, gaining their attention as the two supporting their former boss (for that was what Joey was, wasn't he? Susie wasn't going to work for him _ever again_ ) collapsed like a stack of cards, the domino effect causing Joey to fall on his knees, still knocked out.

"Oh gods," Sammy replied, placing his hands on his face as he stared at what was now a tangle of wood and destruction. "Henry...Henry..." He kept repeating their rescuer's name, lost to the world at large.

"'ello'!" Susie's head swivelled back as someone called out to them. To her astonishment, a young whippersnapper clad in denim jeans and striped T-shirt wandered over to them, oily dark hair slicked down the back of his hair and lollipop stick hanging out of his mouth. In one hand, he held his trucker cap, while grubby fingers grasped a printed sheet of typewritten legal paper.

"Was told to collect you guys and take you to the nearest town. Name's Ben." He stretched out his hand. "Nice 'tcha meet y'all."

* * *

"Who the hell are you?" Wally sidled along towards Ben, inspecting him. He definitely hadn't washed up for a day or so, but who was Wally to complain about hygiene when he was wearing an ink-stained pair of overalls just a while ago? Of course, he hadn't remembered what had happened after Sammy scolded him for losing his keys and thinking that he was just about to quit, but he knew something else had happened after that period, judging from the disturbed looks that some of his friends were sending him.

Wally was perfectly fine if he left and never came back, but he needed to know how long he had been gone. If the landlord kicked him out, then that was a bother, but Wally had slept on the streets before so he didn't care much about that anyway. Looks like someone had considered their need for a way outta here, judging by the vehicle that was parked along the road shoulder.

"People who just need a lift, go there." He pointed at the much more comfortable looking bus, driver already waiting and newspapers wrapping the seats. Wally assumed that he didn't want to get ink on them. Wally considered his choices. He really didn't have much of one, but it was important to be optimistic about such things. Sure, he had just lost the place he had been staying in, but unlike Joey Drew Studios, town promised a nice warm bath and Wally felt filthy, half drenched in ink as all of the employees were. Waiting here for someone to pass by would be extremely stupid. On the other hand, he would risk encountering Sammy Lawrence, who was already in a bad mood, and Mister Drew, who would surely be a target of ire by the majority of those who still stood here.

Wally's choice was made with Joey Drew carried by the newcomer and former music director, heading towards the bus as Norman started arranging the musicians to the front rows next to the window. Perhaps if he asked nicely, he would be allowed to sit as far away from Joey Drew as possible. In fact, judging by the looks that he was being given, no one wanted to sit next to the boss at all.

* * *

"Who told you that we're here?" Susie asked, crossing her arms and keeping an eye out for Sammy. There weren't any seat belts at the back, but Sammy appeared to be focused on both keeping Joey secured with very useful rope and staring at the trees that dotted the landscape. The bus started moving, as Ben chewed convulsively on his lollipop. Working on an answer, no doubt, but why did it take so long for him to think?

"Dad." He answered once they had entered the highway. "Mom would be able to answer your questions in more detail." Ben turned his attention back onto the road, unwilling to say anything else. Susie found herself full of questions but she felt as though she was intruding into the privacy between friends and family.

Mind on the future, honey, she told herself. Her employment contract had expired, and there were more things to look forward to. First, her house, her family who was worried enough to report her disappearance. They must have been in over their heads when she went missing. Never would they have suspected that Susie was still in the studio. There were so many things to do...

And there was Sammy. Before the _Incident,_ Sammy and Susie were on good terms, and they often went out for lunch together and were joined by other voice actors if they were in a good mood...Afterwards, Susie was the only one who still retained her own memories and consciousness as a cartoon. Wally-turned-Boris had only appeared some time after they were turned into ink, and Joey-turned-Bendy was a whole other can of worms. The Searchers could not even recognise her, let alone say anything that resembled words. Sammy was lucid half the time and mad the rest; degenerating into ink had done no good for his mental state, and he scrawled on the walls whatever came to mind, whether it made sense or not.

It was...Susie blushed at the thought of having so much frequent skin contact with Sammy after the _Incident._ She could count on one hand the number of times she had laid hands on him before being transformed, and staying close together to maintain at least some bout of sanity had led her into doing things she usually wouldn't. Susie figured that they would go their separate ways, and maybe Sammy would get some help for his problems. She on the other hand would be travelling around for work. Maybe they'll meet again as voice actress and songwriter, though it was unlikely Sammy could get a job at his age. Animation was going downhill after all, and Susie knew that transferring jobs was on the horizon for both of them.

Susie found that she didn't mind the thought of leaving voice acting altogether. There were other jobs to do, and Joey Drew Studios had been well known. Its fall would be even more spectacular, especially once the inevitable lawsuits came in against Joey Drew for attempting to transform his workers into cartoons. Susie idly wondered just _how_ they could even get a case against him. She did like Joey Drew, at least before he went mad and attempted occult stuff to save their studio. Well-intentioned, but _still._ What was going to happen to them all? The other voice actors didn't seem to remember anything of their time as indestructible ink creatures other than a distinct horror, which was good because the number of times Susie had seen them reconstitute meant that they were dead several times over during the few months that they had been transformed. Even Norman couldn't remember the time he melted in the sun!

There was still Henry though. Sammy had said that Henry would meet them again, but Susie knew that Henry had not gotten up the bus. She doubted that the old man (he had to be at least the same age as her mother) was quick enough to escape, let alone get on the bus together with Ben. So where was he? And what did 'Murray Hill' mean by Henry being immortal?

 _What kind of life did you lead, Henry?_ Susie wondered to herself. _And where are you now?_

* * *

 _"I can't believe you're here." As May attempted to wrap her arms around Henry, she went right through him, causing her to lean overly much and lose her balance. Henry, distracted from his letters let out a yell, eyes popping out of his face as May screamed in return, horrified at what was Henry's transparent status._

 _"Henry, why-how-" She asked in surprise as Henry leaned away from her. May uselessly waved her arms before falling into Henry's chest with a gentle 'oof' of shock. Now he was solid, but as he wavered in fright, May could see his outline blurring, as though his existence in reality was doubtful at best. Maybe it was, as May caught Henry staring at his distinctly unfocused shoulder as well._

 _"May. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you have to go through this." Henry's eyes were welling up with tears. Scrubbing at his face with one sleeve, he pulled May away from him, such that they directly faced each other. Love and fear warred in Henry's eyes, as he mouthed apologies over and over. This was her husband, Henry was usually confident and utterly irrepressible at times. To see him in such desperation elicited May to open her arms in invitation, and Henry dutifully responded by wrapping his warm arms around her._

 _"What happened to you?" May asked, tearing up as well._

 _"I don't know!" He cried. "I just woke up like this in the midst of battle. I'm abnormal, I can't help it!" He desperately sobbed out as he clutched her such that she felt breathless as well. Perhaps it was more emotion than reaction as May patted her husband on his back. Henry made hiccuping noises as he welcomed her comforting gesture, with May leaning, making sure not to press too hard._

 _"We'll work it out somehow." She suggested, wanting to allay his worries somehow. "No matter how unnatural your state, I will always be by your side." May didn't know how everything was going to be sorted out. How would Junior and Ben react once they realise that their father was closer to death than before?_

* * *

Without looking backwards, May could feel the door slamming behind her younger son, newly returned from the hospital where Henry's former boss had been admitted. While the majority of the other employees were either stuck in the police station declaring their return from non-existence and declaring themselves alive once more, or taking a trip back to wherever they came from, some had returned along with him. Well, she did promise a clearer explanation, but May didn't suffer fools, and fools they were for following Joey Drew up to the very end.

"Sit, sit." She ordered once the door to her study opened. Without further ado, she turned, facing them straight on.

"Madam." The male, taller than she had remembered gasped as he stood frozen at the doorway. Meanwhile, his companion, an unknown female gave him a hard-eyed stare as she latched onto him and brought him towards the couch. She mourned the covers as they sat there, staining the cloth with animation ink. Whatever Henry called it, May knew that they would be _so_ hard to launder. But that was not the important question.

"Mr. Lawrence I presume." She arched her brow. "And who is this polite young lady? She has better manners than you." The young lady in question blushed. Well, compliments had to be given to those who deserved them. Evidently, Henry's former work colleague recognised her despite the passing of years, if he still remembered her aged and careworn face.

"I believe you have some questions?" She prompted, folding her hands in her lap as she waited. May was not disappointed, as Sammy opened her mouth, but seemed to think better of it, and waited for the young lady to give her thoughts first. At least he had some manners, May thought as she allowed her eyes to rest on his female companion.

"My name is Susie Campbell, and the first I would like to ask is where is Henry?" Ah, one of the more difficult questions.

"Dead. He was killed in the war." She held out a hand, palm facing her audience as Mr. Lawrence attempted to shout. "He came back as a ghost though. It was fine the first few years, but _someone_ thought that it would be a great idea to use his friend as part of a magic ritual and we couldn't hide his undead status."

May could hear Henry's former colleague hiss under his breath, but she couldn't care less about him. Henry had wanted to go back to his workplace, but after his letter wasn't returned...she was lucky that Henry's employers and neighbours didn't suspect anything amiss until now. May would have found it difficult if she were to explain the fact that Henry cast no shadows, nor was he solid when people tried to touch him without prior warning. Henry had tried so hard to find a job where he didn't need to stay for long, and contract work forced them to move up and down the country. And when he asked for help, biting back both their pride and dignity, Henry's former boss didn't even write back, despite ten years of friendship...

"...Did Henry say why he didn't come back?" At this, all the fury roiling within May burst out.

"Didn't you read that letter?" She retorted, "He told you why he couldn't come back!"

"What letter?" May froze as Mr. Lawrence stared at her in amazement, ink still sopping down her cushion cover. They didn't receive it? The whole cockamamie nonsense was due to miscommunication? How could that be?

"We sent one right after Henry was discharged. It was addressed to the employees of your studio." May stated, her heart trembling in shock. If it was all due to misunderstanding...No wait, there were follow-ups as well. Did they not receive those as well? Had they been lost in the mail?

"We never heard from Henry afterwards, Madam." Sammy shook his head, eyes wide in disbelief. "I thought that he didn't want to even see the studio again!"

"...Hang on, so where did those letters go to?" Susie asked. "Mister Drew should have received the first one. Shouldn't he?"

"But if it were addressed to the employees that Henry knew, then I should at least have one." Sammy corrected her, thumbing his chin in thought. "So, where did they go?"

"...I'll leave it for my son to sort out." The resentment building in her chest left impotent, May helplessly moved on. "Anymore questions?"

"You told me that Henry's a ghost, yet he said..."

 _"Sammy, go outside now and take Joey with you." Henry pronounced as he continued to flicker in and out of view. "I'll keep the place up until you leave."_

 _"But Henry..."_

 _"GO! I'll be back sooner than you think!" Sammy could not bear to tear his eyes away from his former friend. He wanted to ask where Henry had gone. What Henry's been doing for the last thirty years. All the nitty gritty details that should be discussed over cups of coffee and not plunged in the middle of a life and death situation. But Henry turned away from him, murmuring something, before disappearing from sight._

* * *

"So that's what he said..." May's face grew indecipherable. "We'll meet him again. Well, my husband was an honest man while he lived. He doesn't go back on his promises. As I'm sure that you'll find out." Sammy scratched his head ruefully.

"We'll see him again." May winked, summarily closing the discussion, and left the two of Joey Drew's employees to remain on the couch.

"What 'cha gonna do now, Sammy?" Susie queried, mouth forming a grin. "We're both out of jobs."

"I don't know." Sammy replied, heart beating hollowly in his chest. He couldn't work in the animation industry again, that's for sure. The Prophet had been silent, but Sammy could hear him still there, waiting for an opportunity to come out. The thought of what he had done in the studio shamed him. Sammy, before being transformed, had talent, had a vision to follow. But after the whole thing, and sitting on that bus, with Joey beside him, going through all that he had done since being turned into an inky abyss...Sammy didn't want to go back. But what did he know except for music? And old-fashioned music at that; hardly anything to shout about.

And once the whole thing blew up, Sammy cynically thought, no one would want to employ him. Who would want to be associated with devil worshippers? And Joey Drew, despite everything he had done, was still his friend. Sammy didn't want to think it, but it would be better if Joey didn't wake up. His former boss would be held trial and all the things he did would come up, and Joey would be unable to respond because he would attempt to charm, which would backfire on all of their faces. Not to mention the charges that those with families would bring up for breach of trust...Sammy had been there when they set up the studio together. He, Henry, and Joey, the army of three that had brought Bendy to the big screen. His life's work was all over now.

"...You know, you could always come with me?" Sammy's thought train abruptly drew to a stop as he glanced towards Susie. The woman was looking away, licking her lips, twirling her hair.

"Come again?" He inhaled a sharp breath.

"I haven't thought too far, but how about doing a stint in a music shop? My cousin's got one-" Sammy continued to stare at her, hoping to broadcast his disbelief, "and I don't know...maybe we can work together." Sammy couldn't believe his ears. Was Susie Campbell, that loud, energetic woman who had been the sole light in that hell asking if he wanted to occupy the same space as her despite everything that happened between the two of them? Sammy was willing, but if it was due to pity...

Sammy wouldn't be able to take it. **So what are you going to do then, non-believer?** _Shut up, shut up shut up!_ Sammy mentally screamed, shutting his eyes tight. He needed to think, and the Prophet just would not let things be.

"Sammy?"

"Don't look at me!" He shrieked. "Don't hear, just don't say anything!" He peeked out of his eyes. Susie had edged closer to him, such that their faces were almost touching. Sammy couldn't breath, couldn't feel the words coming out of his mouth, but slouched as Susie closed her own, and just like before, placed her hands on his ears.

"I am the one thing in life I can control." He muttered under his breath, knowing how pathetic a picture he painted right now. "I am the one thing in life I _can control."_

"I never doubted that." Susie affirmed, clasping his hand with hers.

* * *

 _"Wizard? Really?"_

 _"You never asked." Henry brightly retorted, before he frowned. "Though I'm more properly a hedgewizard. No incantations or what not; that guy you contracted for your Ink Machine was a lot more powerful than me. I was lucky that this thing." He fingered the letter that Joey had sent him, summoning him towards the studio, "Told me how to get out of there. But it was really you, wasn't it, Joey?"_

 _"...I wanted to surprise you."_

 _"Ha! Haha," Henry laughed, fingers moving like rusty cogs on a wheel, while his eyes rolled skywards, "Some surprise it did! We're both lesser men than thirty years ago, don't you agree?"_

 _"...do I look like I'm in any state to nod?" Henry snickered, but said nothing in response._

 _"I threw away your letter." The man frowned. "I wanted you to come back. But if I had known..."_

 _"Water under the bridge." Henry shrugged. "But magic-really? I thought you didn't believe in that?"_

 _"I wanted to make Bendy come alive. Since it couldn't be done by science..."  
_

 _"Magic always has a cost. You didn't look it in too much detail. That was always your problem, isn't it, Joey?" Henry heaved a sigh. "Besides, at least Murray Hill got nothing out of it except being transformed into ink for a period of time."_

 _"Ha! He deserved it. He misled me, he told me that this could be done-"_

 _"But you also had a part to play, Joey." Henry's tone was sharp. "You didn't look at the fine print, and wanted the forest but refused the trees. I'm surprised if anyone wanted to rebroadcast Bendy from now on. Our little devil darlin' would be haunted by this, just so you know."_

 _"...I'm sorry."_

 _"Save your breath. It's not worth telling it to me anyway. It's the other employees of your studio-don't give me that, it became yours once I left-who should be receiving that apology. As for me?_ _" Henry shrugged. "Que sera, sera."  
_

 _"...Bye, Henry."_

 _"Bye, Joey." Henry dropped the letter that he had received onto Joey's body, before hoped Joey would be able to recover from being turned into Bendy and having his common sense put onto paper, but he highly doubted it._

* * *

A/N: So the letter was...Joey's remaining good sense and conscience that has been trying (though failing) to get Henry out of the studio initially. On the other hand, the ritual that Joey invoked was to live as his cartoon. Seeing that reality and toon cartoon do not go along at ALL, this resulted in the last remainders of his mind possessing into a piece of paper that was being mailed out (with good intentions) to Henry to come see his live cartoons. As you can tell, that did _not_ go well. May would just keep an eye on him while he answers to assault charges from his employees, but there's still the bitterness at what she thinks is Joey not allowing Henry back on his job.

However, May is misinformed. Henry withdrew from the studio because of 1) War draft and he really struck the unlucky lottery and can't afford to pay the absentee fine 2) He was getting thin and fatigued and decided that he needed a break. Then he ended up dying.

Dying did a number on our protagonist, mostly because he discovered that if he was caught unaware, he would have people inserting their hands i through /i him. Which doesn't do anything good. So freelance jobs in a non-freelance economy! Unsteady work as billboard painters (which paid surprisingly well in the 1960s) and illustration (which fitted his skillset, but he preferred the simple action of moving pictures.) Animation was out for him because of the limited animation style and cost-saving measures of Hanna-Barbera and Co, and Henry was frankly disgusted with the detoriating quality. Of course, he couldn't go back to Joey Drew because he thought his former boss still hated him, while Joey wanted Henry to come back and have a face to face talk.

Small problems turn into massive boulders if left for too long. What turned out to be one small misunderstanding resulted in separation of thirty years and the whole shit to go down in a blast of flames and destruction. Admittedly, Murray Hill was the trigger, but Joey had wanted to prove himself to the employee who 'abandoned' their dreams. Henry, in the meanwhile, didn't destroy his things as he ought to when he left, which resulted in something so half-baked that everyone involved, including Joey and Murray got screwed over. That's what happened if you don't follow the manual!

I might post a intro as to his adventures in ghosting and his interactions with the magical world (which I have plenty of thoughts about but would be irrelevant to the current fandom), but he's basically this low level who can only levitate above the ground, but good in book study because he's been trying a way to reverse his condition. Then Joey's letter came with some ...subtle compulsions that made him wonder if Joey's the cause of his woes.

Henry and his wife do have some difficulties post-war as they try to fit this tiny gap between them, and go through a period of estrangement due to various issues including Henry's ghostly magic status. Ben is actually Benjamin Drew Ross, which Henry could only attribute to a sudden passion. His elder brother, Henry Jr. is far more active in the magic line, and is currently pursuing Murray Hill, magitech extraordinaire across the country, as a lawyer. Ben.D. would very happily go back to his sound technician job in Hollywood, thank you very much.

I will be subsequently posting up omakes depending on comments and requests. If you want more headcanons, feel free to post it up online!


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